He was a hideous old th.o.r.n.y cactus, all covered with warts and k.n.o.bs and sharp spines. Dear mother was very proud of him, and she was always hoping he would blossom, but he never did. He lived in the house in winter, but in spring Mother set him out in the flower-bed, just beside the double b.u.t.tercup. So when the b.u.t.tercup blossomed, with its lovely yellow b.a.l.l.s, I played that Old Moneybags, who was an odious old miser, was counting his gold. Then, when the petals dropped, he piled his money in little heaps, and finally he buried it. He wasn't very interesting, Old Moneybags, but the b.u.t.tercups were lovely. Then there were Larry Larkspur and Miss Poppy. I wonder--No! I don't believe you would."

"What I like about your remarks," said Hildegarde, "is that they are so clear. What do you mean by believing I wouldn't? I tell you I would!"

"Well," said Rose, laughing and blushing, "it really isn't anything; only--well, I made a little rhyme about Larry Larkspur and Miss Poppy one summer. I thought of it just now; and first I wondered if it would amuse you, and then I decided it wouldn't."

"_You_ decided, forsooth!" cried Hildegarde. "'"Who are you?" said the caterpillar.' I will hear about Larry Larkspur, if you please, without more delay."

"It really _isn't_ worth hearing!" said Rose. "Still, if you want it you shall have it; so listen!

"Larry Larkspur, Larry Larkspur, Wears a cap of purple gay; Trim and handy little dandy, Straight and smirk he stands alway.

"Larry Larkspur, Larry Larkspur, Saw the Poppy blooming fair; Loved her for her scarlet satin, Loved her for her fringed hair.

"Sent a message by the night-wind: 'Wilt thou wed me, lady gay?

For the heart of Larry Larkspur Beats and burns for thee alway.'

"When the morning 'gan to brighten, Eager glanced he o'er the bed.

Lo! the Poppy's leaves had fallen; Bare and brown her ugly head.

"Sore amazed stood Larry Larkspur, And his heart with grief was big.

'Woe is me! she was so lovely, Who could guess she wore a wig?'"

Hildegarde was highly delighted with the verses, and clamored for more; but at this moment some one was seen coming toward them through the trees. The some one proved to be Martha, with her sleeves rolled up, beaming mildly through her spectacles. She carried a tray, on which were two gla.s.ses of creamy milk and a plate of freshly baked cookies. Such cookies! crisp and thin, with what Martha called a "pale bake" on them, and just precisely the right quant.i.ty of ginger.

"Miss Rose doesn't look over and above strong," she explained, as the girls exclaimed with delight, "and 't would be a pity for her to eat alone. The cookies is fresh, and maybe they're pretty good."

"Martha," said Hildegarde, as she nibbled a cooky, "you are a saint!

Where do you keep your aureole, for I am sure you have one?"

"There's a pair of 'em, Miss Hilda," replied Martha. "They build every year in the big elm by the back door, and they do sing beautiful."

CHAPTER IV.

THE DOCTORS.

"My dears," said Miss Wealthy, as they sat down to dinner,--the bell rang on the stroke of one, and the girls were both ready and waiting in the parlor, which pleased the dear old lady very much,--"my dears, when I made the little suggestions this morning as to how you should amuse yourselves, I entirely forgot to mention Dr. Abernethy. I cannot imagine how I should have forgotten it, but Martha a.s.sures me that I did. Dr.

Abernethy is entirely at your service in the mornings, but I generally require him for an hour in the afternoon. I am sure Rose will be the better for his treatment; and I trust you will both find him satisfactory, though possibly he may seem to you a little slow, for he is not so young as he once was."

"Dr.--Oh, Cousin Wealthy!" exclaimed Hildegarde, in dismay. "But we are perfectly well! At least--of course, Rose is not strong yet; but she is gaining strength every day, and we have Dr. Flower's directions. Indeed, we don't need any doctor."

Cousin Wealthy smiled. She enjoyed a little joke as much as any one, and Dr. Abernethy was one of her standing jokes.

"I think, my dear," she said, "that you will be very glad to avail yourself of the Doctor's services when once you know him. Indeed, I shall make a point of your seeing him once a day, as a rule." Then, seeing that both girls were thoroughly mystified, she added: "Dr.

Abernethy is a very distinguished physician. He gives no medicine, his invariable prescription being a little gentle exercise. He lives--in the stable, my dears, and he has four legs and a tail."

"Oh! oh! Cousin Wealthy, how could you frighten us so!" cried Hildegarde. "You must be kissed immediately, as a punishment." She flew around the table, and kissed the soft cheek, like a crumpled blush rose.

"A horse! How delightful! Rose, we were wishing that we might drive, weren't we? And what a funny, nice name! Dr. Abernethy! He was a great English doctor, wasn't he? And I was wondering if some stupid country doctor had stolen his name."

"I had rather a severe illness a few years ago," said Miss Wealthy, "and when I was recovering from it my physician advised me to try driving regularly, saying that he should resign in favor of Dr. Horse. So I bought this excellent beast, and named him Dr. Abernethy, after the famous physician, whom I had seen once in London, when I was a little girl."

"It was he who used to do such queer things, wasn't it?" said Hildegarde. "Did he do anything strange when you saw him, Cousin Wealthy?"

"Nothing really strange," said Miss Wealthy, "though it seemed so to me then. He came to see my mother, who was ill, and bolted first into the room where I sat playing with my doll.

"'Who's this? who's this?' he said, in a very gruff voice. 'Little girl!

Humph! Tooth-ache, little girl?'

"'No, sir,' I answered faintly, being frightened nearly out of my wits.

"'Head-ache, little girl?'

"'No, sir.'

"'Stomach-ache, little girl?'

"'Oh, no, sir!'

"'Then take that!' and he thrust a little paper of chocolate drops into my hand, and stumped out of the room as quickly as he had come in. I thought he was an ogre at first; for I was only seven years old, and had just been reading 'Jack and the Beanstalk;' but the chocolate drops rea.s.sured me."

"What an extraordinary man!" exclaimed Rose. "And was he a very good doctor?"

"Oh, wonderful!" replied Miss Wealthy. "People came from all parts of the world to consult him, and he could not even go out in the street without being clutched by some anxious patient. They used to tell a funny story about an old woman's catching him in this way one day, when he was in a great hurry,--but he was always in a hurry,--and pouring out a long string of symptoms, so fast that the doctor could not get in a word edgewise. At last he shouted 'Stop!' so loud that all the people in the street turned round to stare. The old lady stopped in terror, and Dr. Abernethy bade her shut her eyes and put her tongue out; then, when she did so, he walked off, and left her standing there in the middle of the sidewalk with her tongue out. I don't know whether it is true, though."

"Oh, I hope it is!" cried Hildegarde, laughing. "It is too funny not to be true."

"We had a very queer doctor at Glenfield some years ago," said Rose. "He must have been just the opposite of Dr. Abernethy. He was very tall and very slow, and spoke with the queerest drawl, using always the longest words he could find. I never shall forget his coming to our house once when Bubble had the measles. He had come a day or two before, but I had not seen him. This time, however, I was in the room. He sat down by the bed, and began stroking his long chin. It was the longest chin I ever saw, nearly as long as the rest of his face.

"'And is there any amelioration of the symptoms this morning?' he asked Mother,--'ame-e-lioration?' (He was very fond of repeating any word that he thought sounded well.)

"Poor dear mother hadn't the faintest idea what amelioration was; and she stammered and colored, and said she hadn't noticed any, and didn't _think_ the child had it. But luckily I was in the 'Fifth Reader' then, and had happened to have 'amelioration' in my spelling-lesson only a few days before; so I spoke up and said, 'Oh, yes, Dr. Longman, he is a great deal better, and he is really hungry to-day.'

"'Ah!' said Dr. Longman, 'craves food, does he?--cra-aves food!'

"Just then Bubble's patience gave out. He was getting better, and it made him _so_ cross, poor dear! he snapped out, in his funny way, 'I've got a bile comin' on my nose, and it hurts like fury!'

"Dr. Longman stooped forward, put on his spectacles, and looked at the boil carefully. 'Ah!' he said, 'furunculus,--furunculus! Is it--ah--is it excru-ciating?'

"I can't describe the way in which he p.r.o.nounced the last word. As he said it, he dropped his head, and looked over his spectacles at Bubble in a way that was perfectly irresistible. Bubble gave a sort of howl, and disappeared under the bedclothes; and I had a fit of coughing, which made Mother very anxious. Dear mother! she never could see anything funny about Dr. Longman."

At this moment Martha entered, bringing the dessert,--a wonderful almond-pudding, such as only Martha could make. She stopped a moment, holding the door as if to prevent some one's coming in.

"Here's the Doctor wants terrible to come in, Mam!" she said. "Will I let him?"

"Yes, certainly," said Miss Wealthy, smiling. "Let the good Doctor in!"